Too Many Bloody Clichés
by RootbeerFloatShallPrevail
Summary: A hilarious comedy about all the bloody clichés Draco and Hermione go through. Now Draco and Hermione have become aware of it, but can they escape the clichés before they endanger their lives?
1. Chapter One: Filch is Filthy

**_Too Many Bloody Clichés_**

**Summary: A hilarious comedy about all the bloodyclichés Draco and Hermione go through. Now Draco and Hermione have become aware of it, but can they escape the clichés before they endanger their lives?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Note: The author I'm making fun of in this fanfiction is myself.**

* * *

"Granger, I've called you here to the library to discuss something with you of most importance." Draco Malfoy took a deep breath and led Hermione Granger to a nearby table in the Hogwarts Library. 

"Malfoy, I don't see the point in this. Harry and Ron are waiting for me in the Great Hall to look for some silly excuse to get ourselves into trouble so we can get caught and sent into detention."

"See, that's JUST the reason I've called you here."

"How so?"

"To discuss the bloody clichés that you and I go through with each story."

"Clichés?"

"Yes. Have you taken a look at what this author has done herself alone! It's atrocious! Cheesy pick up lines, ME falling in love with YOU, and my father always being the back stabbing bastard. I don't know about you, but I love my father. He's a little strict, but he'll buy me anything I want."

"Who's this girl?"

"Here, read this." With a smirk, Draco handed Hermione Granger copies of I Didn't Know You Cared, When You Came Running, and Turn The Other Cheek, the stories adored by many fans of a muggle community. Hermione, being the eager cliché bookworm she always was, read over the stories with quiet haste. When she finally finished she looked up to Draco with an exasperated sigh.

"Talk about cheesy!"

"That's what I've been talking about! This story, right here." Malfoy held out Turn The Other Cheek, another cliché story written by a teen author. "It's so… cliché! Imagine what Marcus Flint would really be like if he did that. And really, what ARE the odds that you'd be accepted to be a lawyer JUST at the time that I got caught?"

"I don't want to be a lawyer!"

"Exactly. And then… ughs! I turn soft! And I would NEVER buggar you!"

"And these English terms are totally off their rocker… and look at all these grammar and spelling mistakes!"

"She's got a lot of those."

"Malfoy, why am I sitting here, reading this?"

Silence. "I… I don't know. Why are we being civil to each other? – Oh, wait. This is the part in the story where I'm supposed to suddenly look you over and think how much you've changed because you straightened your hair and become punk."

"But I haven't done either!"

"RootbeerFloat can change that." Instantly Hermione became punk and straightened her hair.

"Ah! My hair!"

"Now, down to business." Draco looked Granger over and thought how bloody beautiful she was, to go along with the most cliché of stories. "Well, that wasn't as bad as I would have thought."

"Now… this is the part where I stare into your bright silver eyes right? – Wait a moment. Your eyes aren't gray! Their blue!"

"Truthfully, I think my character was made up in a desperate attempt to have gray eyes, but I wear contacts to make them blue." Draco crossed his arms.

"Well, here goes nothing." Hermione looked deeply into Malfoy's eyes. "Am I supposed to feel something?"

"Lust, most likely." He stared back. "Funny, I don't feel a thing."

"Me neither… and Malfoy, I have to ask. What's with the new hairstyle?"

"Oh, you don't like it down?"

"Everyone uses that too?"

"Yep."

"Frankly, it looked better up."

"You think so?" Even with all this hopeless fraternizing, he examined deeper into Granger's eyes. "This is the part where I call you Hermione for no reason and let it slip."

"It is?"

"Yep, Herm--- oops!" Draco slapped his forehead and looked shocked and blushed.

"You blush?"

"It's part of the clichés."

"Oh, I see."

"In real life my cheeks only turn slightly pink against my pale skin."

"You really DO need to get out in the sunlight."

" (Cough) this is the part where you ask did you just almost call me Hermione (cough)."

"Oh, riiiiiiight. – Did you just almost call me Hermione?"

"Er… no!" Draco smirked.

"I think so… did I get that line right?"

"Perfectly. And then this is the part where I shut you up with my lips."

"You what?"

"Our lips lock. – We smooch – Our tongues dance around with one another's while groaning and tasting – we search each other's oral cavities – oh, heck! We kiss!"

"We have to …" In disgust, she stuck out her tongue. "KISS?"

"Yep." He nodded.

"What ever happened to the question 'would you like to go out on a date?'"

"That died in the 1990's when the word SEX became known to all and Bay Witch started."

"Oh, alright. As long as I know the answer to that." Both leaned in across table. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"What? But we've got to share the first kiss! It's tradition!"

"Malfoy, I don't like you. You've called me mudblood 5000 times--"

"Mudblood."

"5001 times and I can't help but think you're going to use me!"

"That's what you're supposed to feel."

"I am?"

"Yes. You're supposed to think I'm going to kiss you and then I'll leap across the table and take your virginity in the library in the restricted section."

"But… I'm not a… a… virgin!"

"Who was your first? Weasley? Potter?"

"Fred Weasley."

"Oh."

"And George Weasley."

"Both at the same time?"

"We were studying… and had a few butterbeers last year…"

"Studying? But weren't they out of the school by then?"

"Alright! So it was over at Ron's house!"

"Ha!"

"Well, when was your first time?"

"I'm a virgin and proud of it."

Hermione's eyes went wide and she choked on a bit of spit. "YOUR STILL A VIRGIN?"

"Well… yeah. Unless you count what I did with Father…"

"EW!"

"Just joking. But I _am _a virgin."

"But… you're the sex god of Slytherin!"

"IN THESE STORIES. But – I'm saving myself in real life."

"For whom? Harry?"

"POTTER? EW!" Cheeks turning slightly pink, Draco shifted nervously around in seat as if he was hiding something.

"I thought you'd get a row out of that. – Is Pansy really the slut everyone makes her out to be?"

"Yeah, that part's still true."

Both laughed.

"So, Granger. We still have to kiss."

"We still do?"

"Yes."

"I was hoping if I changed the subject enough we wouldn't have to."

"Well, get used to it." They leaned over again and tilted their heads the same way. "Granger, tilt your head to the other side."

"Why don't you?"

He growled. "Fine I will." Draco tilted his head and leaned in slowly. "I can't believe I have to kiss a mudblood."

"It's all for the reviewers." Both touched their lips together and moved each one's lips around awkwardly. Malfoy reached up and stroked Granger's cheek. Hermione pulled away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm supposed to stroke your cheek in an affectionate manor."

"It's not manor, its manner."

"Bookworm."

"Slytherin."

"Let's just get this over with, Granger." He leaned over again and stroked her slightly flustered cheek while kissing clumsily. Hermione pulled away again.

"Have you ever kissed before?"

"Of course I have!" Hermione raised one of her brown eyebrows. "Well… not very much. You try being loathed by all kinds of girls because of your pale skin. I just don't tan easy."

"Here, you kiss like this." Hermione drew Malfoy's lips to hers and moved her lips around in a 'this is how' manner. "See?"

Draco panted a little, slightly shocked. "Right. I see now."

"Why are you panting?"

"I'm supposed to be turned onto your sexiness and want to shag you."

"You don't really want to, do you? – This is all for the audience and clichés, right?"

"Er… right." Draco nodded and straightened his out tie nervously.

"Why are you wearing all black?"

"It's another cliché."

"Am I supposed to think you mysterious and genuine?"

"It was either that or my house colors."

"Damn clichés… so, now that we've kissed… now what?"

"Well, we have two roads. One, being one of us yells at the other and tries to ignore the other, or we shag."

"Those are the only two choices?"

"Yes."

"I choose option A, goodbye Malfoy." Hermione started to get up, but Malfoy sat her back down.

"No, no, no, no, no! We aren't done."

Gulp. "We aren't?"

"We've got to go with option B."

"We do?"

"Yes."

"But, I thought you were saving yourself for Harry!"

"I'M NOT GAY!"

"I always thought you were a poof."

"I'm not a poof."

"Could have fooled me."

"Shut up, Granger."

"Part Veela?"

"NO."

"Ok, just making sure."

"So, now I've got to take your 'so called' virginity."

"You sure you want to give up YOUR virginity?"

"I have to. But the reviewers don't know that I'm a virgin. They think I've slept around with every other girl and you're my next target."

"All right. – Lets just get this over with. To the restricted section?"

"That's the only place that would be cliché enough besides the Astronomy tower."

"Why aren't we going there?"

"That's where Potter and Weasley are shagging."

"Oh."

Both stood up and walked into restricted section.

"That was too easy, Malfoy."

"This is a STORY. The teachers don't give a shit about us."

"Oh, ok."

"So…"

"So…"

"We should… er… get to work, then?"

"We should. – Malfoy, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"No – Er, I mean of course!" With a nervous, awkward smirk he walked uneasily up to Granger and looked nervously to her. Draco leaned down and kissed her lips, a little less awkward this time, and stroked her cheek. Hermione backed up and, as clichés go, her back hit the wall.

"Did I do that right?"

"Yes, Mudblood. Now we have to start shagging like cute little bunnies."

"You think bunnies are cute?"

"I… er…"

"You poof! Me too!"

"I'm NOT a bloody poof! I just happen to enjoy little animals."

"Ok." Hermione leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Er… what was that for? That's not part of the clichés."

"It… It wasn't? Hehehe…?" Hermione smiled nervously.

"Lets just get this shag over with."

"Alright."

There was a long period of each staring at the other.

"Any moment now, Malfoy."

"I'm taking my time!"

"The Malfoy in the OTHER stories doesn't take HIS time."

"You're supposed to be quivering with fear of me now but want my body anyways."

"Oh." Hermione quivered and got feared look in her eyes. "Malfoy, I want you."

"Good job." Reluctantly, he leaned down and kissed Hermione, taking her hands and pressing them to the wall.

"Er… what are you doing, Malfoy?"

"It's part of the clichés. Shut up." Draco seemed to know what he was doing for once, holding her hands and lacing fingers together. Both groaned in a deep 'passion filled episode of utmost lust' – Draco pulled away. "I hate groaning. It's so… uncivilized."

"It's part of the story."

"Alright." Feeling slightly relieved, he kissed Granger and started to slip his tongue in mouth. Hermione drew away once again.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Tonguing you, what else?"

"BUT---"

"No buts, unless its yours or mine from groping. I have to slip my tongue into your oral cavity and have our tongues dance and collide so I can groan and not realize what I'm doing."

"We have to french kiss?"

"Yes. I hate that term… bloody French."

"You hate the French? You really are a poof!"

"I'M NOT A POOF!"

"Just kiss me and get this over with." Draco leaned in and kissed Hermione, dipping his tongue in her mouth and drawing away. "Funny. I thought people were supposed to taste… amazing. – Must be because you're a mudblood." He shrugged and deep kissed her, choking her a few times.

"(Cough) Don't bloody kill me!"

"It's part of my charm."

"That doesn't mean you have to throat me."

"So, I have a long tongue!"

Hermione groaned in frustration. "So, Malfoy. Since you're a… virgin and all… do you just want a job?"

"I don't work."

"I don't mean THAT kind of job." Hermione looked down to Malfoy's pants.

"You… You're serious?" Draco looked nervous and blushed.

"Well, I've never given one before…" She blushed as well, feeling stupid.

"Well, I've never gotten one before." Draco eyed Hermione's lips and had nasty thoughts. Then he realized that it MUST have be part of the clichés because no way would he have wanted the mudblood in real life on his family jewels. Or would he have?

"So… what do we want to do now?"

"Well, most stories don't have you giving me a job."

"Some do."

"Are you that anxious to give me some?" Draco smirked.

"Now you're getting into the clichés quite well."

"Thank you Herm --- Granger."

"Ooh, nice slip up of words."

"It's a gift."

Hermione and Draco looked at one another and paled. Draco reached down and unclasped Hermione's robes.

"Robes have clasps? But I thought we just threw them on over our head."

"Granger, don't be a smart ass right now." He took her robes off and examined her tank top and low cut blue jeans. "Tank tops?"

"Another cliché." Hermione sighed, remembering she should have been helping Harry and Ron get into trouble, but still unclasped Draco's robes. "Black? And since when did you get all muscled up?"

"Quidditch practice." He smirked and looked edgy as Hermione reached down to his belt. "Er… Granger… not so fast!"

"Oh, you're supposed to be in charge?" She raised a precocious eyebrow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I---"

There all at once was a huge banging noise from the left and Filch screaming 'I've got you now, Peeves! I'm going to kill you! – Well, I can't kill you but I sure as Hell can turn you in!'

"Shit." Malfoy pulled on his belt.

"Oh, what about the clichés?"

"Don't you get it, this is one!"

Filch strolled into restricted section with his cat Mrs. Norris. "Well, well. What have we got here, Mrs. Norris? A couple of teenagers out of bed and about to do the deed? What say we take them to Dumbledore and they get detention so they can start their little rendezvous?"

"Er…" Draco shifted awkwardly and blushed.

"What Malfoy said." Hermione pulled on her robes and blushed as well.

"Well come on, you two. Ooh, I hope you get detention with Snape. That would be the perfect Cliché!" Filch smiled and held up a bright lantern to worried expression on boths' Hermione's and Draco's faces.

"Since when did it become night time?" Draco asked.

"Since this became a bloody cliché." Filch replied.

* * *

**Ok, so what do you all think? I got tired of reading all these bloody clichés, and decided to make a comedy about the matter. I made fun of myself too, all in good fun! Tell me what you think. Would you like a second chapter? Write some reviews, please! **

Amy

**AKA  
RootbeerFloat**


	2. Chapter Two: Heeere's Voldy!

**It's finally here! The long awaited chapter 2! DON'T FORGET TO R&R! Please?**

**Amy**

**AKA  
RootbeerFloat**

* * *

I have decided to make a second chapter! A third chapter will probably be in order, and I'm going to try another writing style to this.

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. I expect you to realize that since this is a Dramione story, that you two will be left alone for two hours or so why I have some silly excuse made up so I can leave you two alone." Snape stood up from his desk and held a bottle of self-warming lubricant. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, examining the bottle and biting her lower lip.

"Er… professor." Draco stared at bottle of Vaseline. "What are you going to do with that? That looks like what my dad used when it was my Death Eater initiation…"

Snape blushed. "None of your business, Mr. Malfoy. Don't you have a bloody cliché to be performing?" Snape walked out of the room and slammed the door.

"Death Eater Initiation?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're a Death Eater?"

"No." Draco smirked. "I wasn't a good enough candidate. They said you couldn't love bunnies and be a Death Eater. I had to choose, and in the end… bunnies came first." He stood up and looked to the black, crusted cauldrons. "Why are we always the butt of every cliché?"

"Be thankful this isn't a Harry and Draco romance." Hermione stood up also. "You'd always want to pop Harry Potter's cheery."

"SICK!"

"You're a poof, what does it matter?"

"I'M NOT A POOF."

"You kiss like a poof."

"I'm not bloody gay, Granger."

"But you just said---"

"What my father and I do on our own time is none of your business." Draco blushed and took out wand, no pun intended. He cleaned out the cauldrons in three seconds. "Now what?"

"You troll! You cleaned up the cauldrons!"

"So?"

"You led us into another cliché!"

"I did?"

"We now have two hours to spend here and do nothing except… well, what were going to do in the library."

"Those are the rules?"

"To these stories? Yes. To real life, no."

"Well, Granger, this is real life. Why should we follow every bloody cliché?"

"I agree."

"So, why don't we try to avoid clichés at all costs?"

"That's a good idea… I'm going to look around then." Hermione began to look around to all the different bottles on Snape's desk. A few were pink and green, a little bit of blues here and there, and if Hermione didn't know any better she'd say she saw a small sexual toy peeking out from one of Snape's drawers.

Draco did the same. "Ooh, what does this bottle have in it?" He examined a peculiar label. "Lust potion?" With a smirk he twiddled in between his fingertips.

"Malfoy, put that down right now! It's a cliché waiting to happen!" Hermione grabbed at the bottle and managed to wretch it out of Malfoy's hand. Draco was very upset, as clichés go.

"Hey! I was looking at that." He grabbed the bottle back up.

"Malfoy!" Hermione swiped the bottle in her possession. Both struggled over the bottle, and it ended up crashing on the floor. Pink smoke emerged and both coughed for breath. "Oh dear… my head feels light." Hermione collapsed to floor.

"Shit." Draco looked down at the unconscious Granger and his heart gave a leap. "Picking her up is a cliché… we're supposed to avoid clichés… but… if I leave her there I'll cause another! Snape will blame her for everything. Hmm… leave her." He started to walk to door.

"Malfoy!" Hermione woke up instantly with her head swarming. "Oh, I had the most lustrous dream about you and me. We were in bed and… oh, I forgot. I can't lust over you. You're a poof."

"I'm not a poof!" He glared at her. "How the HELL am I going to prove that to you?"

"Well since I'm under a lust potion…" She stood up and wrapped her slender arms around his neck. "We could have you show me JUST HOW you're not a poof."

"You're nuts. Granger, I'm not attracted to you." Draco pushed her off of him. "I'll see you later. No, scratch that. I can't see you later. NO CLICHES." He then proceeded to walk towards the dungeons door only to have Hermione grab his feet and send him toppling over on his chest –hitting his head on the floor. "AH! FUCK IT!" He screamed, his forehead throbbing. Hermione climbed on top of him and with a lustful sweep of her head dipped down and kissed Draco passionately on the lips. "Granger! Ah! Get off! Clichés! Stop! Stop it!"

"Malfoy, you're supposed to be enjoying this." Hermione sighed.

"This is REAL. LIFE."

"Are you saying you've never once fantasized about me?"

"Exactly."

"Not once?"

"NOT ONCE."

"Poof."

"Oh I'll show YOU who's a poof!" He growled, and as his head didn't comprehend he was leading himself into another bothersome cliché, he flipped her underneath him and kissed her overpoweringly. He tried to straddle her hips but ended up that she had wrapped her legs around his waist and he began to feel uncomfortable. But before he could have a moment to object someone burst through the doors- or more than one. What better way to make a story more cliché than to bring Harry and Ron into the picture! Harry and Ron's jaws hung open in shock as Draco and Hermione kissed a little less awkward than their last encounter.

"Harry… Do you see…?"

"I see Ron."

This caused Draco and Hermione to jump against their own will. It was as if little microorganisms were biting at their nerves, causing a tingle to flow through their bodies and making them follow through with the cliché. Unlike the normal line and Harry and Ron screaming at Malfoy to get off, they both pulled up chairs and smiled to each other.

"Hey Malfoy," Said Harry, "Move over a little and take off your clothes."

"Sicko." Draco grumbled, standing up and moving himself as far away as possible from the trio. Hermione sat up on her elbows and asked, "I thought you wanted Harry?"

"I TOLD YOU I'M NOT A POOF!" Draco yelled at her, and instantly stormed out of the room, making a painting fall off the wall.

"Well… that was rather odd." Ron said, and he scratched his head.

"Care for a threesome?" Harry smiled to Ron and Hermione.

"Sorry Harry, as much as I've fantasized about that, now's not the time." Hermione said flatly and stood up. Ron gave out a huff.

"Damn it."

"Oh get over it Ronald!"

"Oh sure! You can say that because you're a woman and don't have throbbing erections in your pants!"

Harry rolled his eyes, saying, "And then again some things never change."

XXX

"I hate Granger… I hate her… no, can't think she's cute… ah! More clichés! Why are they attacking me like this?" Draco ran to the shower and realized as he turned the hot water on he still had his clothes on his back. "Now that's more like it. Not cliché." He stripped out of his clothes and the water became icy cold. "HOLY FUCK!" He jumped out of the shower. Instantly, Blaise Zabini, or Zambini, no one was ever too sure, strolled in.

"Hey, Draco, what's going on mate?"

"Who are you?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow and wrapping a towel around his private areas.

"I'm supposed to be your over hormonal best friend who convinces you to shag Granger," Blaise explained, "You know, the other sex god of Slytherin."

"You're Blaise, right? –Look, we cheated off of Granger's test ONCE together. I barely know you." Draco growled, pulling on a cliché green bathrobe and moved into the boys' bedroom. Blaise followed.

"Yeah, but I'm supposed to show up and either be the bad guy or be the good guy and give you advice on how to woo her."

"I don't need advice because I'm not after her."

"I know, I know, you're after Pansy Parkinson, right?"

"That slut?" Draco asked. "No thank you. I have dignity man!"

"Then who…?"

"I'm not after anyone! I came to this school to get a good education." Draco explained. "And because my father said he'd buy me my own Quidditch Team if I got good grades."

"Lucky." Blaise whined, sitting on his four-poster bottom bunk. "MY dad only said he'd buy me a yacht."

"Honestly, how are we supposed to survive without the essentials?" Draco smirked. "The three M's. Mum's, Manicures, and Money."

"Is that what the Malfoy's have?" Blaise asked. "Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked.

"Malfoys. M's. Rules. Its all cliché." Said Blaise. Draco's face went white. "You alright?"

"NO." Draco shouted, and suddenly a knock came on the door. "Shit, I'm not dressed."

"Ah, don't worry about it." Blaise said.

"I HAVE DIGNITY. DIGNITY. Do you know what that word means?"

"Er…"

"Never mind." Draco grumbled and pulled on some black slacks and slipped his white cotton long sleeved shirt over his shoulders, not bothering to button it. He went to the door to find Crabbe dressed in a ballerina outfit.

"Don't ask. It was a dare." He growled, handing Draco an envelope. Draco took the envelope with wide eyes and noticed the small whips in Crabbe's other hand.

"A dare?" He asked. "And those kinky whips got there HOW?"

"Okay, you caught me." Crabbe said. "Pansy, Goyle and I are meeting each other in five minutes to fuck."

Draco grimaced. "Next time you decide to give me the details to your sex life –don't." He smirked, and slammed the door in front of Crabbe's face.

"What's the envelope?" Blaise asked.

"Shut up. Don't talk to me." Draco said, having a feeling he already knew the cliché about to happen. He opened up the envelope to find a long piece of parchment with writing on it. "Shit."

'Dear Draco,

I have a burning desire and a hidden lust for you. Meet me out at the edge of the forbidden forest at nine.

Signed,

Your secret admirer.'

"Well that's twisted." Draco finally said. "Usually I'M the one with the hidden lust, not her."

"Whatcha talking bout?" Blaise asked.

"Granger –she wrote this stupid lust letter. We're supposed to go out to the forbidden forest and fuck at nine."

"Then don't go, if you're trying to avoid the clichés." Blaise explained.

"Yeah that could -Hold a moment… I never told you about my clichéd problem!" Draco pointed an accusing finger at Blaise. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"Heeeeeeeere's Voldy!" Blaise said, before drawing his wand and transforming himself into Lord Voldemort –with his snake like red eyes and pasty skin. "Draco, join me and together we shall rule the world with you as my right hand!"

"Why not left?" Draco asked. Voldemort seemed to ponder over this.

"I don't know. I suppose its because I have a superiority complex and when I say right hand I expect everyone to bow to me and say 'yes master' because deep down I'm shallow and insecure about who I am and what my past has brought to Harry Potter and his friends, not to mention the entire world. Perhaps if I stopped to think about what I truly was I could see my true potential."

"Er…"

"JOIN ME!"

"… Is there any money involved?" Draco questioned. Voldemort nodded. "Nah, its alright. I don't want to ruin my perfect skin."

"Oh don't give me that bullshit, Malfoy, I know you have a freckle on your left butt cheek." Voldemort smirked. Draco blushed bright red.

Tom Riddle, AKA Voldemort, twisted his lips into a peculiar smile and pointed his wand at Draco's arm. Draco had a sudden urge to fight back but realized it was too cliché to be real –and the odd thing was this was real life.

"B-Bu-But…" Draco started to say, but Voldemort hushed him up with a slap across the face. Draco narrowed his eyes. "HEY! My father would NOT approve! He says the only kind of sex worth having is if it's kinky –not non-consensual!"

"I wasn't going to rape you," Voldemort sighed, "I was going to give you your dark mark."

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Just as Voldemort was about to put his wand to Draco's left arm, Hermione Granger burst through the Slytherin Boy's door, wand at the ready. "Back off OR ELSE."

"Sorry, my dear, but I don't think my back does come off." Voldemort smirked before turning into a pink unicorn and bursting out of the room past Hermione and down the staircase. Hermione instantly ran to Draco's side. "Are you alright? Did he mess with your brain?"

"I was going to get world power, you bitch!"

"No, you're defiantly yourself."

* * *

**R&R**

**Amy**

**AKA  
RootbeerFloat**


	3. Chapter Three: A Girl Named Pansy

Draco and Hermione sat down on the railing of one of the staircases. Hermione had a book in one hand and an apple in the other. Draco just had a very teed off expression on his pale-ridden face. "Dammit, I could have had world power! Why'd you do that?" He kept growling that every now and again. Hermione simply ignored him and took a bite of her apple. Finally Draco looked up and said, "Are you going to quit eating that apple before I have to explain to you what kind of thing that has to do with clichés?"

"How could an apple possibly have anything to do with another cliché?" She asked, peeping her head up from her book. She suddenly realized that she was the 'bookworm know it all' and placed her book down very slowly. "Oh."

"Yeah." Draco snarled. "A bookworm with a book in one hand and an apple in the other. Ironic? Or pin-pointed exact cliché?" He pondered a moment. "Its like all these things are happening for a reason."

"Blame it on authors who can't come up with good plots and subplots." Hermione stated. "If we're really going to avoid clichés we've got to learn to think for ourselves."

"But we're made up." Draco pointed out. "All of this is the imagination of an author in England who spent her days in a local café writing her thoughts on spare pieces of napkins!" He picked the book up and threw it down the staircase. The book did a few spiral flips before landing hastily at the bottom. "I want to be real!"

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked. "Is THAT all you're worried about? Draco, we ARE real."

"No we're not." He pointed at her. "You're not real. I'm not real. We're all figments of a GREAT imagination. Hell, even POTTER'S not real! –Hmmm… I like that."

"Draco. Focus." Hermione waved a hand in front of his face. "We are real. We live in the hearts of people all across the world. We just don't live in THEIR world. Or maybe we do. You never know. That J.K. could have had some psychic ability to see where we were. We may actually be real and people are just having fun controlling us… wow… that's kind of creepy."

"THANK YOU. _Someone_ gets it. It IS creepy!" Draco paced back and forth. "So. I've got to go meet you at nine o'clock tonight… If I don't go, won't that make it a non-cliché thing? Or would me standing you up be just like the typical bad-boy me?"

"Meet me where?" Hermione enquired. "I never asked you to meet me anywhere."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Granger. Cause I can't tell when you're being dumb and when you're just being yourself."

"I swear!" Hermione yelled. "I am NOT meeting you anywhere tonight!"

The two stared at each other.

"Then who is?" Draco asked. Just as he did, the REAL Blaise Zabini strolled around the corner, his face in a book. He was dressed in a dark green, baggy sweater and some black slacks. Just as he saw Draco and Hermione, he ducked his head back in his book and mumbled, 'allo.'

"Oh, Blaise. I've been meaning to ask you about the exam in Snape's Advanced Potions class…" Hermione put her hand slightly on his shoulder. Blaise glanced up a moment, his hair covering his face slightly, before looking down again. "Blaise?"

"I… I… Um… Its pretty hard… um… I gotta go." He whizzed down the staircase. When he got to Hermione's book he picked it up, strolled back up the staircase, said, "I think you dropped this," smiled, and went back down the staircase quickly. Draco looked from the blushing Hermione, to Blaise, to Hermione again.

"Oh my God. You did NOT fall for that cliché, did you?" Draco smirked. "You did!"

"That's not a cliché!" Hermione said, holding the book as if it were gold.

"Oh, its not?" Draco pried the book from her hands. "I bet in this is going to be some sappy love note to you from Blaise, confessing his undying love for you. –And I'm supposed to get jealous."

"That's not a cliché, Draco."

"And why isn't it?"

"For one thing –Blaise was actually black today, instead of the way he was in your dorms – you know, the whole Italian sexy thing going on. Second, Blaise was a bookworm like me just now. I bet if you open that up its not going to be a love note to me."

"Well, we'll just see about that." Draco smirked, opening the book and pulling out a small, folded note with a heart on the front. "And what do you call this?"

"A love note to you, courtesy of Blaise."

Draco looked down at the note. "You're making this up."

"No. I bet you its true."

"But…"

"Just open it!"

"Fine, Granger. Keep your skirt on… please." He opened up the note, his eyes falling on the scribbled piece of parchment. When he finished, he glanced up at Hermione with a smirk that could have made Merlin himself worried.

"What?" Hermione asked, slightly uneasy.

"Go ahead. Read it yourself." He handed the note to her. Hermione read out loud.

"Hermione,

I hope I don't make you feel uncomfortable, but I wanted to let you know that I've been thinking about it… would you be my escort to the upcoming honors ball? It's for all of us who've gotten advanced ratings on our NEWTS and OWLS. And I know you and I are at the top of the class… so… how about it?

Your Friend,

Blaise"

Hermione shook her head. "Its not a love letter at all!"

Draco smiled. "Nope. Now can we please focus on the actual clichés at hand?" Hermione was just about to ask what kind of clichés could possibly happen at this very moment when Pansy Parkinson strolled around the corner.

"Oh dear Lord." Hermione mumbled. Pansy was dressed in head to toe black; black mini skirt, black combat boots, and of course her traditional black robes. She gave Hermione the largest sneer she could muster before sauntering over to Draco.

"Hiya there big shot. I was just noticing you around and figured since we both are kind of the leaders of Slytherin we should hang out and then go back to the dorms and—"

"Pansy Parkinson. Don't tell me the clichés got you too." Draco begged, putting his hands on her shoulders to look her dead in the eyes. All she did was fawn and drool like a mental. "NoooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOO!" Draco threw his head back dramatically. "Pansy. Who did this to you?"

"Oh, Draco. I want you now." Was Pansy's answer.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Not now."

Pansy glanced over at Granger. "Oh, I see. You're with HER. The mudblood."

"Pansy. Don't fall under this… curse! I'm not with Granger! I'm saving myself for Potter –I mean –she's not a vir- I mean, just don't go into this cliché-ic mess! Please!"

Pansy slapped him across the face. "Your father will hear about this, Draco. And then you'll be sorry." Pansy stepped on Draco's big toe and stormed off.

"No… Pansy!" Draco called back. "Granger! Don't just stand there! Grab her! She can't tell my father! Then it'll be really cliché!" Hermione gave a rather large sigh and threw the book at Parkinson's head. Pansy whirled around, glared, and continued to walk in the direction of the owlry. Hermione growled. "PARKINSON!" She bellowed, trying to come up with something to stop the witch (ha, play on words! PUN!). "Parkinson… come here and… and… fight for Draco like the man you are!"

"Granger!" Draco whispered. "You're walking into another—"

"Shut up, Draco." Hermione snapped. The challenge had seemed to gotten Pansy's attention. She stopped, turned, and marched back up the hallway, her large combat boots echoing across the floor. When she got to Hermione, she stuck her nose two inches from Hermione's.

"What'd you say to me?" She barked. Hermione stood her ground, though slightly uneasy. "You wanna say that again?"

"Fight. For. Draco. Like. The. MAN. You. ARE." Hermione gulped. Pansy smirked.

XXX

"Oh, Ms. Granger! What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked as Draco held Hermione in his arms in the Hospital Wings. Hermione gave out a loud groan. "Is she hurt bad?"

"Not that bad." Draco stated. "She just got punched in the face by Parkinson."

"Well didn't the child know Pansy has a black belt in martial arts?" Asked Pomfrey as she sat Hermione on one of the Hospital beds. Draco shrugged. "Oh, don't move dear. I'll get some remedies from inside my room and leave you two inconspicuously in the same room as each other and somehow you two will confess your undying love for each other or want to shag each other senseless."

"NO!" Hermione and Draco shouted, but it was too late. Pomfrey had left, leaving the two inconspicuously in the same room. Hermione groaned again. "Are you okay?"

"I just got the shit beaten out of me by a girl named PANSY. Do you THINK I'm okay?" Hermione snapped. Draco somehow managed to get a wet washcloth and patted it over Hermione's head.

"Well, you shouldn't have called her out like that. She was just under a cliché."

"But aren't we supposed to try to AVOID clichés?" Hermione asked.

"You did. You got punched." Draco smirked.

"I just want to know who's starting the clichés."

Suddenly an owl swooped out of the clear blue sky and landed on the windowsill. It pecked at the window. Draco rolled his eyes and opened the window. In flew the owl with a package on his leg. Many authors still write in simple sentences. It's annoying. The owl cooed. Draco took the package off the leg. The owl was a good owl. This is some random information you don't need. Please excuse it. Draco read the note attached to the package.

"Dear Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger. The two Heads of Houses died in some horrific accident. I want you two to be head boy and head girl. Best of luck. There's some fortune cookies in the package. Make sure to hate each other before you eat them. They'll attatch you two to each other, like in the story by RootbeerFloat called I Didn't Know You Cared.

Yours Truly,

Professor Dumbledore."

Draco and Hermione looked to each other.

"Dumbledore's dead." Hermione gulped. "Whoever sent that is veeeeeeeery sadistic."

"Or just not informed about the actual books." Said Draco. "You know, many Harry Potter fans haven't even finished the _fifth_ book and are STILL writing about the Seventh?"

"You're kidding!"

"Nope." Draco threw the fortune cookies out the window before petting the owl. "Now what."

"We find out who that note was from." Stated Hermione. "We find out who wrote that… we find out who's putting this cliché-ish curse on us. And when I find out who it is…"

"You're going to make them have a gangbang with you and Potter?"

"Not funny."


	4. Chapter Four: Its pouf, not poof

**Finally! Another chappy! Keep those reviews coming, please!**

**Flames are even welcome.**

**I think... (Smirks)**

**Amy**

**AKA**

**RootbeerFloat**

* * *

"Ferret." 

"Prude."

"Ferret."

"Mudblood."

"Ferret."

"Pond scum!"

"Ferret!"

"Come ON, Granger. We're working on non-cliché one-liners. Is that all you can say? Ferret?"

"Its all my mind can come up with!" Hermione seemed exasperated, flung out on the floor of an empty classroom. Why there were so many empty classrooms in a large school puzzled Hermione, but kept her mouth shut in fear of another problematic cliché.

"Well try HARDER." Draco was trying to finish his potions essay as he listened to her.

"Okay... here we go... ready?"

"Ready."

"Ferret-BOY."

Draco rubbed his temples. "See, I don't think you're getting the point---"

Suddenly Harry and Ron rushed in, the invisibility cloak in one hand and the Marauders map in the other. Harry charged forward. "Hermione, we've come to rescue you! We saw your name and Malfoy's name in the same room and- - - wait a tick. Haven't we already done something like this?"

"Yes. Two chapters ago." Hermione nodded. "Tell me, whats another name for ferret-boy?"

"Shit-head." Ron grumbled, glaring a bit at Malfoy. Draco cocked his head to the side.

"Excuse me?"

"Erm... what Ron means is... sorry, Malfoy." Harry hit Ron upside the head.

"Ow! 'Arry, that hurt!"

Another person burst into the room, this time by apparation. Lucius Malfoy smirked.

"Excuse me!" Hermione protested, "But you can't just apparate into Hogwarts -truly! You honestly can't do it. I don't know why people have you burst into the room like that..."

"Oh... excuse me a moment, then." Lucius was gone with another POP, and appeared in the doorway. "This better?"

"Quite." Hermione smiled triumphantly.

Lucius strolled in. "Draco, what are you doing with this mudblood --- why are Potter and Weasley here?"

"Dad!" Draco cringed, "You're embarrassing me!"

"Am I in the wrong cliché again?" Lucius looked around.

"Just mix them all together," Hermione suggested. "Saves time."

"Fine." Lucius agreed, "Draco -you can't be serious! This – This-- FILTH? This sexy, problematic filth that could put shame to the Malfoy name? Oh, and have you defended Potter? -Say no, son."

"No!"

"Very good. --Yes you have, you brat! I shall disown you! -Now, I take you back with a message. The Dark Lord and I require that you must be wed by the first of next week -and it is either to be to Pansy Parkinson and have that Granger girl as your mistress, or to that Granger girl and shag her senseless after gaining her trust and admiration -then you shall have a child and call him some muggle name like Tyler or Billy."

"Daaaaaaaaaaad. You're embarrassing me still!"

"Heed me, Draco! Or else you shall have Hell to pay!" Lucius pulled out a book and read through it a moment. "Aha. Evil laughs. --bwahahahahahahahahahaha!" Hermione pulled the book out of his hands.

"101 ways to be evil and sadistic -the actor's guild?" She read aloud.

"Leave me alone." Lucius snatched the book out of her hands and stormed out of the room dramatically, but not before shoving Harry out of his way. Harry fell to the floor, his elbows scuffing in a sickening sound.

"Potter! Are you okay?" Draco fell to the ground next to Harry.

"Fine, Malfoy..." Harry growled, trying to stop the slight bleeding from his arm.

"Harry, Ron, we need to figure out who's causing all of these randy and illegitimate clichés before something bad happens. Can you help us?"

"If you need someone to stand around all day and complain that we're never gonna get it done, I'm with you, Mion." Ron piped up.

"Don't call me Mion, Ron. That's soooooooooooooooOOooOOooOo... degrading!"

"Can I call you Herms?" Harry asked politely.

"No! No Mion, no Herms! I am Hermione or Ms. Granger!"

"Or Queen of France..." Ron snickered.

"And you're the queen of the poofs." Draco sneered.

"Its poufs." Harry corrected. "Not poofs. -Honestly, Hermione. I thought you would have caught that before me."

"Sorry, Harry. I've been so busy trying to figure out all of these clichés."

"Since when do you know how to spell poufs, Potter?" Draco questioned, feeling a twinge in his guts. "Why would you need to know? Need to go off to a fairy convention?"

Harry simply put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "To be truthful, Malfoy, I'm not about trying to hate you anymore. I've gotten so used to you hating me, I'm comfortable with it. I've got better things to deal with – like Horcruxes-"

"HARRY!" Hermione and Ron both gasped.

"-And defeating Voldemort. You're really not all that a big deal to me." Harry took off his glasses and polished them neatly.

"Well... fine..." Draco sounded rather disappointed. "The reason I pick on you is because... well... because..." He couldn't do it. Not now.

"Its okay." Ron put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm gay too."

"You are?" Draco turned his head to the side.

"Ha! No! --But that was hella-brilliant!" Him and Harry high-fived each other.

"Brilliant, mate." Harry grinned.

"Fuck both of you!" Draco growled.

"No thanks, Malfoy," They said together.

"I'm not gay!"

"You just keep telling yourself that!"

"I tell you, I'm not gay!"

"Suuuure, Malfoy..."

"I'm not!"

"Not yet, anyways." This voice came from a disgruntled Ginny Weasley, standing in the doorway. "Hermione! OMG I HAVE SO MUCH FREAKIN NEWS TO TELL YOU I CAN'T WAIT TO TALK LIKE A MUGGLE TO TELL YOU GIRL YOU LOOK SO DAMN GOOD HAVE YOU GROWN BOOBS?"

"Umm... Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"Shit, they've got her too." Draco grabbed Hermione's arm. "Come on. The lot of you. Lets go!" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, who in turned grabbed Ron's, and they all made a train out of the room and into the hallway, where a vivid show of cliché-driven student zombies stood.

"Join us. Join us." They chanted.

"Shit! What do we do?" Draco gasped.

"Did you just gasp?" Ron smirked.

"You just smirked!" Draco gasped again.

"Come on!" Harry grabbed his friends and placed them behind him, then shouted - "Expecto Patronum!" They managed to make their way behind the clear white stag and out of Hogwarts itself. "Run for the Forbidden Forest!" Harry shouted behind him. The four took off at a sprint down the steps of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The zombies lingered behind, shaking and twisting in a violent way, some screaming, "Fuck her, Draco!" And others, "Slap him, Hermione! Make him twist your hand behind your back!"

They weren't sure how long they ran, but finally trees surrounded them and they fell to the ground, panting.

"That was close." Draco groaned, holding his side.

"I tell you," Harry said, his wand at the ready, "Its only going to get worse."


End file.
